and stared into her drink. âHis name was David.â She took another sip, letting a piece of ice slip into her mouth and pressing it against the inside of her cheek, willing her heart rate to slow, for the story she was spinning to slow. Too fast and it would sound hollow and false. Lies needed to be doled out carefully. Planted and tended before the next one could be given. âHe was wasting away to almost nothing, in excruciating pain. I couldnât watch it anymore.â She let the image of a dying man shimmer in Claireâs imagination before continuing. âAnd so, I told the nurse to go home, that Iâd take the night shift. I wasnât very smart about it, but itâs impossible to think clearly when the man you spent your whole life loving is suffering.â Eva looked blankly across the terminal. âNow it seems they have questions. There might be consequences.â
What Eva needed was a compelling reason why she, too, might want to disappear and never go home. Something other than the truth.
She felt the shift in Claireâs body language, a slight turning toward her, no more than an inch, but it was enough. âWho is âtheyâ?â Claire asked.
Eva shrugged. âThe coroner. The police.â She gestured toward her phone. âThat was my husbandâs oncologist. He told me theyâre asking everyone to go downtown in a week to answer questions.â She looked out the windows toward the tarmac. âNothing good ever happens downtown.â
âAre you from New York?â
Eva looked back at her and shook her head. âCalifornia.â Pause. Breathe. âHeâs only been gone twenty-one days, and every day I wake up and relive it. I thought a trip to New York would help. A change of scenery, the opposite of home.â
âDid it?â
âYes. No.â She looked at Claire with a wry smile. âCan both be true?â
âI suppose.â
âIâve already lost everything that mattered to me. My husband is gone. I quit my job to take care of him. It was just the two of usâneither of us had any family.â Eva took a deep breath and said the truest thing sheâd said so far. âIâm alone in the world, and I donât want to go back. My flight leaves in an hour, and I donât want to be on it.â
Eva dug around in her purse and pulled out her boarding pass to Oakland, laying it on the bar in front of them. A prop. A temptation. A silent suggestion. âMaybe Iâll go somewhere else. I have savings. Iâll buy a new ticket to some place Iâve never been and start over.â Eva sat up straighter on her stool, as if the decision sheâd just made had released something heavy inside of her. âWhere do you think I should go?â
Claireâs voice was quiet next to her. âIt wonât take them long to find you. Youâd be traceable no matter where you went.â
Eva took a few moments to think about that before saying, âDo you think itâs possible for someone to disappear? Vanish without a trace?â
Claire didnât answer. The two of them sat in silence, watching people make their way toward their gates or toward baggage claim. Hurried travelers, giving each other wide berth as they avoided eye contact with everyone around them, too absorbed in where they were headed to notice two women sitting side by side at the bar.
In the distance, a childâs wail grew louder as a frustrated mother passed them, pulling her sobbing daughter behind her, saying, âIâm not letting you watch Parent Trap for the hundredth time when you havenât done your reading for Mrs. Hutchins.â
Eva watched Claireâs eyes track them up the concourse until they were gone. Then she said, âNice to know a new generation is still appreciating the work of Lindsay Lohan.â She took a sip of her drink. âWhat was that other one she made? Where the